


Fragments

by artemis1967



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Sam, Bottom Sam Winchester, Fluff and Smut, M/M, PORN gifs, Somnophilia, Top Dean, Top Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-05 23:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20497184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemis1967/pseuds/artemis1967
Summary: The smell of sex is still in the air, and all these memories are making his cock swell up. And he hopes there will be one more round before his guest leaves.





	Fragments

Something wakes him up, but his hunter's instincts feel no threat, so he keeps his eyes closed.

From the horrible taste in his mouth and thirst he’s feeling, last night likely involved a lot of drinking.

Trying to remember what the hell happened, images start popping up in his mind. Naked bodies, sweat, come, and the tight heat around his cock. He’s sure it was good, though the details are still fuzzy in his mind.

Only then does he realize he’s not alone in the room. The sound of someone snoring reaches his ears, and he can feel the warmth beside him even though their bodies aren’t touching.

Hoping she's pretty, he tries to remember the details. And to his surprise, what comes to his mind aren’t the curves of a female body. There are images of muscles, hair where the skin should be smooth, and a firm ass. Still, he remembers the softness that pleased him and the roughness of his movements; the satisfaction of dealing with a body that could handle it.

The smell of sex is still in the air, and all these memories are making his cock swell up. And he hopes there will be one more round before his guest leaves.

Moving a hand to his member, he strokes it a few times, seeking more details from last night in his mind, which is a little more alert now. The image of his cock going in and out of a perky ass comes up suddenly. And that's precisely why he loves to fuck a partner on all fours; his lizard brain directing his actions, the need to visualize the dominance that comes from penetrating someone. Yeah, he’s nothing evolved when it comes to sex, but let he who is without sin cast the first stone.

Feeling his arousal grow, he decides to open his eyes, and the world stops when he recognizes the body beside him because it’s the familiar figure of a very naked and deeply sleeping little brother.

_Holy shit!_

Sam’s lying on his side with his back to Dean. And it's a breathtaking sight. Then he notices the bite at the junction between Sam's shoulder and neck, and it shocks him a little. He doesn't consider himself a biter, but something about his brother must have awakened that side of him, and the surprising thing is how much he likes it.

Looking down Sam’s back, the next thing that catches his attention is the fingerprints on the slim waist, reminding him of the firm grip he had on it last night.

Things start to make more sense—an argument, jealousy, and alcohol, which resulted in rough sex between them.

He thought he would never have this again. Not after Benny and that girl from Texas. And that's exactly why he turns toward Sam but without touching the sleeping man. He doesn't want to lose his brother again. He wants what they had before back. Closing his eyes, he inhales deeply, the smell of shampoo so familiar that it hurts.

Fear suddenly makes its presence known. Maybe it was a dream and he’s still dreaming.

_Goddamn!_

He opens his eyes and moves a hand to the extension of tanned skin in front of him. The touch of his fingers is so subtle he barely feels the soft skin of Sam's back. There’s no reaction from his brother, and Dean gets more confident by tracing patterns randomly. And it seems so real.

_Fuck!_

This has to be real. He thinks he won't survive if he wakes up again to a reality where Sam isn’t his.

The fingerprints are the next ones he touches, placing his finger over it. And the image of a happy Sam looking in the mirror for identical marks comes to his mind. He smiles, feeling nostalgic.

Then Dean realizes he needs more. There is a need for irrefutable proof that everything was real. His fingers continue to the perky ass, which still has the same ability to make Dean mouth-watering.

His caresses don't disturb Sam, and the lean and muscular body still doesn’t move, soft breath reaching Dean's ears.

More fragments of the past invade his mind as he touches the round globes. He can't count how many times he has mapped each inch of it. And Dean wants that privilege back. A lot.

The intensity of what they had was unique. No one—in the extensive amount of partners Dean had—touched his emotions as profoundly as his brother did.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, his fingers drift between Sam's asscheeks. And what he was looking for is there, making everything that happened last night real. He spreads the wetness he finds before pushing a finger into the small wrinkled entrance. It gives in easily, showing how well fucked his brother was last night. Dean smirks, although no one witness it, he’s responsible for the state Sam is in, and the satisfaction about it’s incredible.

Then he feels a movement, and that's minimal, but it's still there, looking for his finger. Sam is needy for it even in a state of deep sleep.

More memories suddenly pop up, and Dean becomes aware of how much they lost in those years when they were together just like brothers. Sam always enjoyed being woken up by Dean's morning wood. His brother said that the moment of awakening, caught between the dream and reality, seemed magical to him. There were so many times Dean woke him up that way, and now he wants it to be part of his existence again.

Adventurous, Dean adds one more finger, which also comes in easy, pushing both until he finds Sam's prostate. And his brother begins to give signs of awakening.

In the past, this was the moment when Dean slowly entered Sam, and his impulses were as lazy as Sunday mornings. But he doesn't dare to do that now, not without knowing how his brother feels about what happened last night. His throbbing erection will have to be content with the sensory aspect of what is happening now.

His ministrations continue, fingers massaging Sam’s small bundle of nerves steadily. The reaction to what he’s doing increases, and he feels his brother's ass pushing against his fingers. It reminds him of other times when Sam begged for any kind of friction on his prostate. And so, he goes on. Sam will just have to deal with it.

Dean’s aching cock needs attention, but he can do nothing about it right now.

“De’n?” It sounds so soft that he has to make an effort to understand what his brother is trying to say. It looks like someone woke up from the dream world.

“Mmm.” Dean prefers not speaking, afraid of breaking the moment.

“Please.” It also comes out softly. Then one long leg bends, making way for Dean. And he doesn't need a more explicit invitation.

Penetrating Sam again after so long—and fully aware of it—is exciting, but at the same time brings that feeling that he should never have stopped doing it.

The moan he hears when he's balls deep in his brother is as good as hearing his favorite song playing on his Baby while they're on the road. And Sam’s so pretty like this, ass pushing back against him, desperate for his cock, and whispering his name like a fucking mantra.

After that the rhythm is so painfully familiar, his body knowing what to do almost of its own accord and their bodies fitting perfectly.

He puts an arm under Sam's neck, holding his little brother against his chest with his hand on Sam’s shoulder. With the other he lifts one long leg, opening the other man to him even more.

“Ah!” Sam groans as Dean moves his hips and kisses his brother's jaw a few times. And it's so different from last night, of the frenzy and despair that Dean can remember.

“I missed it,” Sam's voice comes out wrecked.

“Me too, baby.” Words aren’t enough for him right now. Then he pulls Sam's head carefully, putting all his emotion into the kiss that follows. And it’s like going back to the Bunker after a long hunt; it’s sweet, familiar, and very welcome.

He just lets it go when he tastes tears in his mouth. Startled, he looks at his brother, and what he sees is pure devotion. There is no sign of distress, and that’s just Sam Winchester still crying during sex. It's not the first time, and Dean's reaction is always the same, he collects the remaining tears with his fingers, smiling before kissing his brother once more.

Knowing his brother is painfully close, he wraps a hand around his cock, coordinating the strokes on it with his thrusts. It doesn't take long for his brother to come, his moans muffled against the pillow where he hides his face at the moment. And he's thrilled to see his brother falling apart into his hands again.

He doesn't last long after that, his thrusts gaining speed as he nears his climax. Sinking deep into his brother, he presses his forehead against the long strands covering the back of Sam's neck, inhaling deeply the shampoo he likes so much, glad to find it's still the same fragrance.

It’s neither the strongest nor the most prolonged orgasm he has ever had, but it’s undoubtedly the most significant. And this should never have stopped happening between them.

Letting go of his little brother doesn't even cross Dean's mind when he finishes releasing the last drops inside him, the fear of another loss making him hold Sam tight against him.

He keeps his face buried in Sam's hair as his breathing returns to normal, breaking free of the lean body only when a moan of discomfort reaches his ears.

Despite the care with which Dean pulls his dick out, Sam winces, and a smirk is inevitable. But he gets serious as soon as his brother turns around, staring at Dean, uncertainty all about the pretty face.

Taking the lead, he softens his expression as best he can and asks, “Do we need to talk about this?”

The silence that follows it makes him uneasy. So, Sam responds softly, “No, Dean.”

“What about us? Do you want…?” He needs not to finish it. Sam knows what he means.

“I never wanted anything else in all this time.” The smile is shy, the dimples making a small appearance.

The tension Dean is feeling dissipates as fast as it began. He has his brother back in all the ways that matter, and Dean's life is perfect again.


End file.
